Angel Means Bad News
by Meeps
Summary: Even in her dreams, Potters upset young Miss Malfoy. One Shot, next generation.


Angel Means Bad News

"Pouf!"

Giggles all around me. Good.

"Stuff a sock in it, Malfoy."

A dismissive hand gesture. Potter's probably depressed.

"What is it, Potter? Your bender broke up with you?"

Mocking Potter is my best and most favourite hobby.

Heturned around. His wandwas on the ready. Ok, second best hobby if I get him too pissed.

"Listen Malfoy, I'm not in the mood for your stupid name calling, and I'm sure you don't want the same treatment your dad got from mine. Or do you?"

"Merlin, there's no need to be so aggressive."

"There's no need to call me Merlin."

I hate his triumphant smile. He left. Well, sod him. I'll have fun poking at someone else.

Dammit, I can't poke anyone else. I followed him. He was going up to seventh floor, but not to that fat lady portrait that leads to their common room. He went to a corridor I've never been to, and in a circle three times. Suddenly a door came out of nowhere. He went inside, and the door disappeared. Fine, if there's nothing else to do… I thought I'd just go and play some songs on my guitar until I get tired.

So I turned right, and went to the staircase leading to the school roof. I summoned my guitar, and I was playing some old song my dad used to sing to me when I was a little girl. As much as he's a death – eater, I can't say he's a bad father. I love my dad. I just wish he was normal and not corrupted by a damn Dark Mark on his forearm.

And Potter and his stinking-golden-boy-who-lived-father. Such a failure, senior Potter, and still the world admire him and looks up to him. The world is stupid, that's the first thing my dad taught me. The second thing he taught me was to never listen to anyone but him and myself. So I follow these directions. And so far, they led me well. No complaints. Good thing granddad is dead. If he were alive, I would've been marked myself, and imprisoned in my own home. And grandma is in Azkaban and that good too. And I don't know anything about my mom.

Footsteps. I didn't like the sound of that.

Was there someone on the roof?

Of course there was someone's on the roof.

"Go away." I growled at whoever that was. I wiped tears off my face. I actually didn't realize I was crying.

"Your daddy doesn't own this roof, Malfoy."

"And your daddy does, Potty?" I looked up at him. Apparently, I wasn't the only one that had been crying.

"No."

"So go."

"Play me a song."

"What?"

"Play me a song. Come on, Malfoy. Are you afraid?"

"Zip it Potter."

"Go on then, play me a song!"

"What song?"

"Can you feel the love tonight."

"Excuse me?" I quirked my eyebrow at this statement.

"Can You Feel The Love Tonight, by Elton John! Don't you know Lion King?"

"No."

"You are clearly a Malfoy."

"Well, of course I'm a Malfoy!"

"I meant it to be a bad thing."

"Potter, I'm warning you."

"Come on. Play Can You Feel The Love Tonight."

"I told you already! I don't know how!" Alright, so maybe I do, but I was _not_ going to play Potter a love song!

"Yes you do. You're blushing. You have seen Lion King."

He smiled. He was damn happy for making me embarrassed. Bitch.

"Well, I have, but I'm not playing you a stinking love song!"

"What a grouch, Malfoy."

He pouts at me. He's bloody _pouting_ at me.

"Potter, just get out of my sight before I hex you!"

He giggled.

"What is wrong with you? Are you high?"

"Ariel… You're my twin sister."

I believe I fainted at that moment, because when I opened my eyes, my dad was sitting at one side of my bed, and Potter and his dad were sitting at the other side of it.

"Dad…? What happened?"

Both mine and Potter's dad started talking.

"Why are _they _here?"

I stared pointedly at my dear father, meaning the two raven haired males on the other side of my bed.

"There's… There's something I need to tell you, Angel."

Angel? That had to mean bad news.

"I… Well, I'm not your father."

It sounded so corny it hurt.

"And now you're going to tell me Potter is. Nice joke dad, but you're a bit early. April fool's isn't until next month."

_No_. There is not a frigging reason for me to be a part of the Potter family. Never. Not a chance in the world.

"Well, yeah."

It was not my father. Well, technically it was. But I still denied Potter senior is my father.

And then I got out of bed, snatched my jacket and ran out of the Infirmary, screaming the world has gone insane. I ran to McGonagall's office, took the Sorting Hat, and slammed it on my head. It said something like…

"Ariel… Ariel… Ariel! Wake up already!"

And then I woke up, Augusta Goyle's face lingering over me, shaking me awake.

I hate nightmares _so_ much.


End file.
